


Over the Edge

by ssa_archivist



Series: The Worthy [1]
Category: Smallville
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-01-09
Updated: 2004-01-09
Packaged: 2017-11-01 05:37:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/352581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A picnic gone wrong. Pre-slash. But not for long.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the Edge

## Over the Edge

by ShimmyGloss

<http://vleonard.com/shimmygloss/>

* * *

\-- Chapter 1 -- 

I was sprawled out on cushions in front of the fire, having a quiet drink, and generally enduring the first evening of a one week grounding sentence. How did this happen? How did I get grounded by a woman I had known for such a short time? 

Further to that, why had I accepted it, when the whole fiasco was really completely Clark's fault. Or at least, mostly. Somewhat. All right, I knew why I accepted it. Since I now had plenty of time to think about it, I reviewed the events in my mind, trying to figure out how I got to this point. 

My last oblivious thought the day before had been that I needed to stock up on clothing suitable for hanging out innocently with young Kansas farm boys in their natural habitat. Clark wanted to show me a place with water of some sort, and idyllic nature all around. Since the outdoors agrees neither with my skin nor with my temperament, there was nothing in my closet certified for casual outdoor use. 

Which was painfully clear from my reflection in the mirror. I had managed to scrounge together a grey t-shirt, some ancient black jeans, and white canvas Sebagos, no socks. The hooded sweatshirt waiting on the bed was something that I wouldn't normally set foot outside a gym wearing, but it was clean. 

The jeans were left over from earlier days, when I was a scrawny club kid, subsisting mostly on inventions of my own that were one atom shy of being controlled substances. Healthful small town living had added a couple of pounds to my frame. The jeans were inappropriately tight for a friendly picnic in the wholesome wilderness. 

Not that Clark wasn't hot. Very hot. But I didn't want him in that way. I was simply grateful to the kid for saving my life. I thought that by getting to know him, I could find some way of helping him in return. A sweet, openhearted kid like that was worth helping. If I'd had another pair of jeans, really, I would have worn them. 

I picked up the sweatshirt and went downstairs. As I hit the first landing, the front door closed. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Clark was waiting in the front hall, holding a huge picnic basket and a blanket. 

He looked exactly the way he always did, all baggy flannel and denim. What I wouldn't give to get the boy into something that fit. Me, for instance. God, did I just think that? Well, he was hot, so it was only natural that I should notice. It didn't mean anything. I concentrated on thinking wholesome thoughts. 

"Hi, Clark." 

"Hi, Lex." 

"That smells delicious, even from here." 

"My mom went overboard on the cooking." 

"I can't wait to try it. You ready to go?" 

"Lead on." 

"Can I help?" 

"I've got it, Lex." 

"This way, then." 

"Soko." He was reading the discreet black text on my t-shirt as we walked out to the garage. 

"That's San Francisco, in Japanese." 

He laughed. "The stuff I learn from you, Lex, I never learn in school." 

"Obviously, Clark. Had you learned it in school, you couldn't learn it from me." I was just being a smart-ass to avoid dwelling on the kinds of things I could teach him. 

He gave me an exasperated look. "I mean, you teach me things that none of my teachers ever thought of teaching me." 

"Don't get me started on public education, Clark. If I can broaden your horizons in any way, I'm happy to do it." 

"And I'm happy to learn." 

Time for a change of subject. "Where are you taking me, anyway?" 

"It's about twenty miles out of town. A beautiful place, but nobody goes there. I hope you like it." 

"I'm sure I will. Pick a car." 

There was almost not enough room in the car for the picnic basket, but we managed. Clark gave me the eye as we left the garage. "Lex, you look...different." 

"Yeah, like a complete mess." 

"No, no. You look...good. Really." 

I laughed in response. "It was either this or a suit." 

"I would've thought you'd have mountains of clothes." 

"I do. In Metropolis." 

"There's a story here," he said, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. 

"When my father told me he was sending me to manage a crap shop in a one-off-ramp town south of the ninth circle of hell, I wanted to believe that he would soon change his mind. I only took about two weeks worth of clothes." 

"Is that really what he called it?" 

"Every word came up during our...discussion." 

"Is that what you think of Smallville?" 

"No, it's no further than the second circle of hell." 

Clark punched me in the arm, fortunately not the one I was steering with. "You'll feel differently after you see where we're going." 

"I admit, it's becoming home." And I wish I could have looked in his eyes when I said it. Maybe there's something to be said for a slower speed. I could have done it at 50. 

"So, anyway, you've got all these clothes in Metropolis." 

"True." 

"Don't you drive there all the time?" 

"Quite often, yes." 

"Then, help me out here, Lex." 

"It's all your fault, Clark." 

"What did I do?" 

"You brought me back from the dead." 

"Oh, God, please, Lex, don't tell me you came back wrong." 

"No," I laughed. "I came back better." 

"Better?" 

"Yeah. Wider perspective, slightly nobler aspirations, that sort of thing." 

"Well, that's good, right?" 

"Absolutely. I like my new self. I don't want to lose it." 

"Who could make you?" 

"Ah. The man I used to be, back in Metropolis." 

"The one with all the clothes?" 

"That's the bastard." 

"You're avoiding your stuff in Metropolis because it reminds you of how you used to be?" 

"That's it." 

"So you have nothing to wear." 

That's the practical upshot of my identity crisis." 

"You know, we do have stores in Smallville." 

"Burn my silk ties and chum it with the locals in flannel and plaid?" 

Clark laughed. 

"You see, Clark? Even you think it's ridiculous. It's no good. I'll never fit in here." 

"Not as a home town boy, Lex, no. But look at Chloe." 

"Chloe?" 

"Yeah. She was born in Metropolis. And she's made a place for herself here." 

"That's certainly true." 

"And then there's my mom." 

"Another Metropolis girl." 

"Yeah. She moved here when she married my dad." 

Lured by the charms of a Smallville boy. Understandable, though I can honestly say that the one she chose didn't do a thing for me. "It seems your mom and I have something in common." 

"You should talk to her about it. You know, what it's like to move here from the big city." 

"Maybe I will, Clark." 

"And...maybe you could talk to me about Metropolis, too." 

"What about it?" 

"Um, what's it like?" 

"Well, You've been there, right?" 

"No, Lex, I haven't." 

"What?! Never?" 

"No." 

"Do your parents ever go?" 

"Occasionally. They're talking about spending the weekend there for their anniversary." 

"And they've never taken you." 

"No." 

"I'm boggled," I said, shaking my head. "We'll have to go. I'll take you. We'll catch a show or something." 

"I'd like that, Lex." 

\-- Chapter 2 -- 

We left Smallville behind. The scenery was...flat. At some point during creation, there was a major design change, from flat planet to round. Whoever was in charge of building Kansas clearly didn't get the memo. 

Clark talked about his life and friends, especially about Lana, a girl he liked. He was determined to worship her from afar. My heart twinged in a surprisingly sad way. Well, maybe this was my chance. I could help Clark get this girl. 

I slowly tuned out as my body started chiming in on the subject of Clark. To my body, it wasn't just gratitude. Or that he was so different from anyone I'd ever known before. Or that he was worthy of my help. It wasn't even the loneliness of being new in town, and living in a house I kept getting lost in. 

It was just Clark. His voice soothed my soul. My skin ached with the need to touch him. And I did not need this complication in my life. Especially when there was nothing I could do about it. He was fifteen. I would do anything to protect him. I didn't want to be the one he needed to be protected from. 

So, he was going to be my jerk-off fantasy, and never know it. Not until he was older, anyway. Maybe someday I'd-- 

"What do you think, Lex?" 

"What's important is how you feel about it, Clark." 

He smiled. Thanks to my father's interminable lectures, I have developed the ability to participate in conversations of which I have no understanding, not to say awareness. 

"Pull over here," he said. 

We stopped just off the road. Clark took the basket and the blanket from the car. I got out and looked around. 

"This way," said Clark, walking away from the road. I followed him over a slight rise, and down into a small, round meadow protected from the wind on all sides. A crater. The meteor shower wasn't Smallville's first extraterrestrial pummeling. 

The place was picturesque. Trees, tall grass, a small stream, wild flowers. Bird songs filled the air. A ladybug climbed a blade of grass. Really, quite lovely. The sort of place that there should be more of. 

And not a place I would willingly be in, physically, except to be with Clark. Perfect, though, for viewing as a small, double-matted photograph behind glare-proof glass, in some air-conditioned room devoid of bugs, dirt and excessive sunshine. 

I helped Clark lay out the blanket in the shade of a cottonwood tree. He put the basket on top of the blanket. Then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me toward the stream. 

"Look," he said, his eyes shining, "there are crawdads in the water." 

He picked one up, and handed it to me. I handled it gingerly, not sure what to do with it. The last time I was this close to one of the bizarre crustaceans, it was, along with others, on a plate in a small New Orleans eatery overlooking the river. Bite the head, pinch the tail.' I did not need to be remembering that. 

"I didn't think there were any in Kansas," I said. It was a very strange place. Almost too pretty to be real. But, well, I don't get out into nature much. What did I know about it? I put the small creature back in the water, and watched it swim away. 

"Tag, you're it," called Clark as he poked me in the shoulder and ran away. I took off after him, and eventually tagged him back. We ran around the meadow, laughing and chasing each other, for I don't know how long. 

Then, as I was running away from Clark, I ran up the side of the rise which was farthest from the road. I stopped in my tracks at the sight of the land beyond. It looked like a giant had taken a knife and cut a gaping gash almost a mile long into the utterly level ground. It was like a horrible wound in the landscape, dark and unhealable. Clark tagged me easily as I stood there aghast, the game forgotten. 

"Times," I called down to him. "Clark, get back here." He climbed up the rise and stood next to me. 

"Something wrong, Lex?" 

"What's that, Clark?" 

"Oh, um," said Clark, looking inexplicably uncomfortable, "that's the ravine." 

Not exactly the level of information I was looking for. "But, what is it?" 

"I...don't know, Lex. I fell into it once, when I was little. My parents made me promise never to go near it again. And I haven't. And I really don't remember anything about it. So, there's nothing I can tell you." 

"Well in that case, you better run, Clark." 

Clark seemed relieved that I didn't ask anything more. Naturally, he didn't want to be reminded of his childhood mishap. We went back to chasing each other around the meadow. 

The high point of my day came a short while later. Clark was running away from me when he stumbled on something. He put his hands down to steady himself, and I tagged him with a slap on the ass. Clark put on a surprising burst of speed and tackled me. 

We dropped together into the tall grass. We lay there, breathing hard. I had to pinch my arm surreptitiously, and viciously, to stop myself from dwelling on the fact that Clark was lying on top of me, his arms firmly wrapped around my thighs. At least a bruise on my arm I could explain away. 

"Clark, maybe we should wash up and have lunch," I said, risking a look back at him. 

"Good idea, Lex," he mumbled. He dropped his eyes, but it was too late. I had already seen it. Desire. Not the moon-eyed, schoolboy look he had for Lana, but the real thing. Raw and hot. For me. I was going to have a lot of bruises by the time we went home. 

Clark disentangled himself, and walked off to the stream. I got up gingerly, and walked off to a different part of the stream. We both came back to the blanket fairly drenched. Maybe next time, we should just go swimming. Above the Arctic Circle. 

Once we had removed our shoes, and settled down on the blanket, Clark opened the basket. 

"Clark, I'm going to drown in this aroma." 

"The point is to eat the food, Lex, not just smell it." 

"No argument." 

My first impression was that Mrs. Kent had overpacked the basket by a factor of ten. But it turned out that she simply understood her son's dietary requirements far better than I. Clark put what would fit out on the blanket, and started in on the ham. 

I sampled everything, cleansing my palate frequently in order to fully experience the delicate subtleties of textures and flavors. Clark talked about some of his mother's most memorable meals. I pondered this daughter of Metropolis, now living in the hinterlands. In addition to her other accomplishments, she had perfected arcane culinary arts that could easily form the basis of a popular new religion. She was clearly a rare and remarkable woman. 

"Your mother's cooking would lure down angels in flight," I said, as I finished eating. 

"I'll tell her you said that." 

"What time do you have to be home?" I lay down on the blanket, being disinclined to move. 

"Six," said Clark, helping himself to more chicken. "In time for dinner." 

"Dinner?" 

"Sure, Lex. Aren't you having dinner?" 

"Yes, Clark, possibly as early as the day after tomorrow." 

"I will not tell my mom you said that." 

"Won't she approve of my gorging myself on her cooking?" 

"I won't tell her you're not eating later. She thinks you're underfed." 

"Your mother worries about my well-being?" 

"Yeah. One day my dad was ranting about, um--" 

"Me?" 

"No, Lex. More about Luthors, you know, i-in general..." 

"Got it." 

"My mom called you one of your dad's victims." 

"She did?" 

"Yeah. She said your dad never took good care of you." 

"What did your dad say to that?" 

"I, um, forget." 

I didn't call him on it, but Clark really was an amazingly bad liar. Well, he was trying to spare my feelings. That was enough of a novelty in my life, that I shut up and savored the experience. 

I asked Clark about the local flora and fauna, and he elucidated at some length. My stomach was feeling pleasantly full, the day was warm, and Clark's voice wrapped gently around my awareness. I fell asleep. 

I woke up just before five. Clark was asleep next to me on the blanket. My breath caught in my throat, and my heart executed an unfamiliar maneuver at the sight. 

Clark had rolled over onto my sweatshirt, which was never going in the hamper again. I lay motionless next to Clark, watching him with all my being. I drank in his exquisite features, unconsciously matching the rhythm of his breathing, and generally driving myself crazy. 

He, too, had seen me sleeping. Had he watched me? Had he felt the same glorious surge of feelings that overwhelmed me now? Did he regret that this was likely to be a one-time thing? Because we were not going to wake up next to each other every day from now on, even though it was my fondest wish. 

I had done quite a bit by this point in my life, but a few seminal experiences had eluded me. One of them snuck up on me so quietly now, that I was shocked by the realization. For the first time in my life, I knew myself to be in love. 

I almost woke Clark, but of course he would read my feelings in my eyes. Feelings I couldn't show a fifteen-year-old. It wasn't fair to him. I needed a distraction. And one suddenly occurred to me. 

It was a short drive back to the Kent farm, especially with me at the wheel. I would go have a quick look at the ravine. I could come back and wake Clark up, my eyes carefully neutral, in plenty of time to get him home. 

Quietly, I got up and moved away. After walking about twenty feet, I looked back. Clark was still asleep. 

"I love you, Clark." I mumbled the words under my breath, and memorized the vision in front of me. Then I turned and ran, trying to forget the words I had just spoken. 

For the most part, the ravine was just a hole in the ground. A long, ugly hole in the ground. At first I couldn't see the bottom, the sun being too far from the zenith to shine any light on it. 

But there was some kind of light down there. Dim, green light. Phosphorescent fungus? It was all concentrated in one place. I got in close. In the weird glow, the bottom seemed only perhaps fifteen feet down. However, the wall was so close to shear that climbing out would be a challenge. Oddly, as I watched, the glow got brighter. I moved up to the very edge to get a better look. 

"What are you doing, Lex?" 

"Jesus, Clark, don't sneak up o--" 

Clark looked very unwell. His eyes were unfocused, he was swaying slightly, and he was more than a little green around the gills. 

"Clark, what's wrong?" 

"Lex, we have to--" 

He grabbed my shoulder and staggered, forcing me back. But I was already on the very edge, and there was no place for me to go. Except over the edge, taking Clark with me. 

\-- Chapter 3 -- 

Green darkness. Sliced through by a swath of starry night sky. Mr. and Mrs. Kent were going to kill me. 

My awareness then focused on the pain I wasn't in. The ground was actually quite warm and pliant, and-- 

Clark! I was lying on top of Clark! I scrambled off of him, and knelt by his side, trying to see him in the green glow. He wasn't unconscious, as much as...very, very out of it. Had I not known better, I would have diagnosed one of the more highly processed opiates. I just hoped it wasn't brain damage. 

"Clark! Clark!" I yelled, grabbing his shirt. "Answer me!" 

"Lex," he said, looking surprised to see me, "the meteor rocks..." 

"How can you think of rock collecting at a time like this?" The question sounded louder and more hysterical in the air than it had in my head. "Tomorrow, I'll get you all the damned rocks you want!" 

"No, Lex..." 

I reached for my cell phone, but of course it was in the pocket of my sweatshirt, which was still on the blanket. At least one of us was going to have to climb out. The problem was finding, in the dark, a place where the wall might be scalable. 

"Clark, can you move?" 

"'Course I can," mumbled Clark in an insulted tone. 

I didn't say anything about the fact that, even with my help, it took him three tries to get to his feet. He looked around in a dazed sort of way. Then, he stumbled off into the darkness away from the green glow. I, lacking a better plan, followed him. 

Clark effected the most extraordinary recovery. After about four steps, he was walking normally. A moment later, he turned to me and spoke. His voice was clear and strong. 

"Lex, I'm so sorry I made us fall." 

"It was an accident, Clark. I shouldn't have been standing there." 

"And I shouldn't have--" 

"Clark," I said, holding my hands up. "Stop. We've established that neither one of us was trying to hurt the other." 

"Yeah." 

"So. Next point. Are you all right?" 

"Fine, Lex," said Clark. Even in the dim light, his embarrassment was evident. "I just got a little dizzy, earlier." 

"Dizzy spells during adolescence are quite common." 

"Are they?" 

"Yes, Clark. But you should still tell your parents what happened." 

"Like I could avoid that," moaned Clark. 

"Which brings us to the next point--" 

"Wait, Lex--" 

"Is something wrong?" 

"That's my question. Are you okay?" 

"Yes, Clark. Thanks for letting me land on you." 

"What are friends for?" 

Several possible answers went through my mind, but all had to be discarded. Instead, I focused on the problem at hand. 

"I'm relying on your local expertise to get us out." 

"Um," said Clark as he studied the darkness intently. "Over here, I think." 

I followed Clark slowly through the uneven terrain. We picked our way to a spot under a wider expanse of sky. The moon was low on the horizon, and only starlight penetrated into the ravine. Furthermore, we had lost the green glow. Whatever had led him to choose this spot was beyond my ability to see. 

Clark started climbing up the slope. I couldn't even see him as he made his way up. I followed the sounds of climbing and breathing, and the falling sprinkles of dirt. It was slow going, finding hand and foot holds entirely by feel. 

My clothes caught on dry branches. Something thorny ripped a painful line across the back of my hand. I swear a small animal of some kind scurried away from me. It's possible to hallucinate through your hands. Unable to identify what I was touching, my mind offered up all sorts of unhelpful possibilities. 

Clark made a strangled sound. I looked up, and got dirt in my eyes. But I also felt horizontal, grass-covered ground beneath my hand. I blindly pulled myself up onto the surface, and plowed right into Clark, who had come to a dead halt. Blinking the dirt from my eyes, I saw the problem. Another two steps, and Clark would have walked straight into Mr. and Mrs. Kent. 

"Mom, dad--" 

"Don't even start, Clark," said Mr. Kent, and thus began the parental lecture. He gave it his best shot, but he wasn't in the same league with my father. Of course, it's different when you're not the recipient. 

I felt embarrassed to be there, cramping Clark's style, as it were. I hate to get into shouting matches with my father in front of other people. And it wasn't for me to interfere, unless I got pulled in. Furthermore, Clark could easily defend himself without escalating this thing. He wasn't to blame, after all. 

But Clark stood silent before his father's onslaught. His head was bowed, and he shifted from one foot to the other as though trying to get away. He wouldn't defend himself. Was he trying to protect me? I changed my mind about interfering. He wasn't going to take any blame for me. 

"Clark, defend yourself. This isn't your fault." 

"And you stay out of this, you--" 

Mrs. Kent stopped her husband with a hand on his arm. "Lex, what happened?" 

I hesitated. Clark was too much of a boy scout to allow a complete fabrication to stand as the official version of events. Sooner or later he'd crack, and my credibility with his parents would be shot to hell forever. But maybe he would endorse a light spin, just enough to deflect the worst of this unpleasantness off of him. 

"Clark told me the ravine was dangerous. He warned me to stay away. But, I wanted to see it for myself. I came over while he was asleep. I figured I'd be back before he woke up. But I fell in, and was knocked unconscious. Clark only came after me when he woke up and saw that I was gone. If it weren't for Clark, I'd still be down there." 

It sounded credible to me, as long as no one asked how Clark knew where to find me. I held my breath, waiting for Clark to contradict me. He continued to say nothing. 

"Is that what happened, Clark?" asked Mrs. Kent. 

"Yes, ma'am," said Clark softly. 

Mrs. Kent rounded on me. "Lex, you're grounded for a week!" 

"What?" I asked, confused. 

"You acted irresponsibly. You endangered my son." 

"But you can't ground me." 

"Would you rather I spank you?" she asked, her voice rising dangerously. 

"I'll take the grounding," I said quickly, raising my hands in surrender. 

So that's how it happened. I protected Clark, but only at the cost of branding myself an irresponsible guardian. So now, I had to regain the trust of Mr. and Mrs. Kent. Which started with honoring the punishment I'd accepted. 

Not that I particularly minded staying home tonight. I felt utterly beaten by my day at work. My father had stacked the deck so much against me, that I was beginning to wonder if I could save the plant at all. It's not that I cared whether the plant existed. I just didn't want my father to win. 

I dragged myself up and staggered over to the bar for a refill. I was considering whether to take the bottle back with me, when footsteps sounded in the hall. A moment later, Clark appeared in the doorway. 

\-- Chapter 4 -- 

"Hi, Clark." 

"Hi, Lex. Um, is this a bad time?" 

"Not at all, Clark." 

I looked at the drink in my hand, then put it down. It was six years before I could offer Clark a drink. Six years. God, when did I turn into a chicken queen? Why was I even doing this to myself? I got up and walked toward the door. 

"Come on, Clark, I'll make us some cocoa." 

"Don't you have people to do that for you?" asked Clark, as we walked down the stairs. 

"I don't need 24 hour care, Clark," I said. "My staff work eight-hour days. This late in the evening, I have one person who keeps an eye on the place, and answers doors and phones as needed. Otherwise I'm on my own, unless I've made previous arrangements." 

"It must be strange to have servants." 

I shook my head. "Having my cook make cocoa for you is just the same as having me do it, except that she makes it better, and she doesn't leave a mess." 

I put the kettle on, and pulled out the Carre de Guanaja. It was one of the few things I could find in the kitchens. The location of the kitchens had only become important to me when Clark started delivering produce to the house. 

"How are things at the plant, Lex?" 

"Brutal, Clark. I don't know how long I can keep it open." 

"The plant could close?!" 

"That's my father's intent, Clark." 

"But, all those people will be out of work!" 

"My father won't care, Clark." 

"But he sent you here. He must think you can--" 

"He sent me here to take the blame. That's all." 

Clark looked shocked. "How could he do that to his own son?" 

"I pissed him off, Clark. Long story." 

But Clark seemed not to hear me. He continued to register shock for a few moments, giving me a good insight into the gulf between our two lives. Finally, he sighed. "I've always thought of the plant as one of those things that never changes." 

"That's precisely the problem, Clark." 

"What is?" 

"My father's neglected the place for years. It needs massive capital improvements, all of which would have to be amortized against receipts, and--" Clark was looking at me blankly. "and I don't know what I can do." 

"But you've got to save the plant, Lex. Chloe's dad--" 

"--is one of over 2000 people currently haunting my dreams. But Clark--" 

"If anyone can it, you can, Lex." 

"Do what, Clark? Create profit out of thin air? That's what it'll take." 

"You can do it, Lex. I know you can. Please, Lex..." 

The resolve that gripped me then, as I looked into Clark's beseeching eyes, made my earlier motivation pale into insignificance. If it was that important to Clark, of course I would find a way. I didn't know if I could ever have what I wanted from him, or if I was doomed to be devoured by my frustrated desire. But to give Clark what he wanted... That, at least, I would have, at any cost. 

"Don't worry about it, Clark," I said grimly. "It's as good as done." 

Relief flooded his eyes. I basked in his faith, but couldn't find anything more to say. Then the kettle whistled, demanding my attention. I got two mugs of cocoa together. The mess was fairly minimal, at least from my point of view. I might hear differently in the morning. We went back upstairs, and I dropped more cushions in front of the fire. Clark settled down on them, as I stoked the fire. 

I observed Clark carefully, gathering details to fuel my future jerk-off sessions, like the one I had scheduled for immediately after Clark left. He looked beautiful by firelight. Highlights chased each other through his hair. Shadows played up his bone structure. 

Then I sat down next to the love of my life, my heart sinking. Of course, Clark was going to tell me that everything he'd heard about me was true, and I couldn't put it off any longer. 

"Clark, you didn't come over to talk about the plant." 

"Not exactly." 

"Nor to drink cocoa." 

"Which is really, really, excellent, by the way." 

"I'm glad you like it. Speak your mind, Clark." 

"Well, it's just that..." 

"It's all right, Clark. Really." 

"What you told my parents wasn't exactly the truth." 

"Close enough. I didn't hear you make any adjustments to the story." 

"Are you corrupting me, Lex?" 

"Hey, what are friends for?" 

He looked at me, not smiling. I sighed. 

"Clark, I don't want to come between you and your parents. Tell them whatever you want. Denounce me for a lying bastard. I don't care. You have my blessing." 

His eyes were filled with confusion as he stared at me. Then, he looked down. "Damn you, Lex." 

"Yeah," I said, looking down at the cushion and picking vaguely at it. "I get that a lot." 

"I didn't mean it like that." 

"What did you mean?" 

"Being with you is...confusing, sometimes." 

He had no idea. The corruption I had in mind was beyond his comprehension. Part of me couldn't understand why I wasn't already pounding that virgin ass into the floor. Another part of me understood that I wanted more from Clark than sex. And I was willing to delay gratification to get it. 

"Being with you is confusing for me, too, Clark." 

"You're making fun of me." 

"Never. We're from different worlds, Clark." 

"Um, yeah, I guess..." 

"But I'll always be your friend, Clark. If there's ever anything you need..." 

I bit my tongue to keep from saying any more. I wanted to promise Clark everything. I wanted to get it for him. Anything to make him love me. Honestly, if I stayed in this cow town much longer, nobody would recognize me. On the other hand, was that so bad? 

\-- Chapter 5 -- 

I was checking my email on the final night of my sentence. Mrs. Kent probably wouldn't appreciate the fact that I was using the time to find out when Clark would be legal, at least if one of us had been female. Blue laws were definitely on my hit list, once I started my political career. 

I skimmed through my incoming messages and found what I wanted. Oh. Adopted. I felt a surge of joy that Mr. Kent was not related to Clark. Of course, Mrs. Kent wasn't either. That was too bad. I just couldn't see what she saw in the man. 

The agency was not familiar to me. Well, even with all the philanthropic work that LutherCorp was involved with, I could hardly be expected to know every adoption agency in the state. And all I had to do was search-- 

"Hi, Clark," I said, nearly slamming the Titanium shut, and pushing it away from me. 

"Hi, Lex. Am I interrupting something?" 

"Just checking my email." 

"You looked really focused." 

"I--just--got an interesting piece of news." 

"If it's a bad time--" 

"No. Please stay. Actually, there's something I want you to see." 

I pulled the Titanium back, opened it, quit out of my email program, and opened the digitized footage. Then, I turned the laptop around so that Clark could watch himself on the monitor. 

"What's that, Lex?" 

"Security feed from last night. Mind telling me what you were doing skulking around on my property?" 

"I, uh, I was just checking to see that everything was all right." 

"'Fess up, Clark." I locked my eyes on his, and stepped into his personal space. "Are you checking up on me for your mother?" 

"No, Lex." 

He looked down. I lifted his chin until I was looking into his eyes. 

"Are you sure, Clark?" 

"It wasn't my mom, Lex. It was my dad." 

"What?" His answer surprised me so much that I let go of him. He walked over to the fireplace, and stood looking into the flames. 

"Lex, please don't tell my mom..." 

"All right, Clark," I said, walking over to stand next to him. "Now you have to tell me. What's going on?" 

"After my mom grounded you, my dad bet me you wouldn't go through with it, and I bet him you would." 

"You bet on my honor?" 

"Don't be mad, Lex. I saw it as a sure thing." 

It was actually the nicest thing anyone had said to me in weeks, but wasn't ready to tell Clark that. "How much?" 

"Fifty bucks." 

A significant chunk of change on a farm that my initial inquiries showed to be struggling. 

"So you've been coming over here every night to check up on me." 

"Lex, please, please, please don't tell my mom. She'll kill my dad, and then she'll kill me." 

"We're friends, remember?" 

Clark relaxed visibly as my words sunk in. I would have given a lot to have that moment on video. Something to sustain me after he became disillusioned in me. 

Usually, the first thing I learn about a person, even before I have a name, is that this person already hates me. How could the first person to judge me worthy turn out to be an underage kid I couldn't wait to fuck? I'm prepared to believe that life is even more screwed up than I am. 

"You know, my father would never have taken that bet." 

"Maybe he doesn't know you as well as I do." 

"Maybe you're right, Clark," I said, not wanting to disturb the trust in his eyes. "I hope you are." 

"Friends forever, Lex." 

"At least, Clark." 

\-- End -- 

This is the beginning of the "Worthy" series. The series continues with the first time story "Setting the Rules." After that, it continues with "Truth Comes Down," which includes "Debt in the Blood," originally posted separately. 


End file.
